


Second Best Isn't Bad

by tulioandesmi



Category: Starfighter (Comic)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Smut, Unrequited Love, Yaoi, implied Cain/Deimos and Praxis/Ethos
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-30
Updated: 2013-04-16
Packaged: 2017-11-23 00:51:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/616243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tulioandesmi/pseuds/tulioandesmi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Deimos and Ethos find satisfaction in each other where they can't with Cain and Praxis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He didn't know how it started, but he had a feeling he knew how it was going to finish. 

A hot breath in his ear was all the warning Ethos got before he felt a soft hand envelop his cock, growing half-hard almost immediately, confusion and arousal flashing through his mind as he felt how long it had been since he'd gotten off, lying in bed refusing to jack off to Praxis, to someone who had never consented to being his fantasy, but unable to get hard at the thought of anyone else at all. He grit his teeth as the hand squeezed just below the head of his penis, ripping his own white-knuckled hand off its death grip on the urinal he had been standing in front of and grabbing at the wrist of whoever was coming on to him, tugging it away with a noise of discontent. But the hand on his crotch only tightened slightly, a warning, and the feeling of a nose ruffling through his hair was accompanied by a sharp pain at the tip of his ear. Ethos gasped, caught off guard and not liking the pain one bit. 

"I said no!" he exclaimed, even though he hadn't, breaking the silence as he whirled around to face his pursuer. 

Deimos recoiled as their pale eyes met, looking sorry and stubborn all at once. "Deimos?!" Ethos breathed in surprise, having been expecting a soft and delicate navigator, dropping the man's wrist as though burned. He would never have acted so bold if he'd known there was a fighter pressed against him, and in the bathroom no less. But it wasn't just any fighter, it was Deimos, the fighter who probably understood more about Ethos than anyone else ever did, the fighter who Ethos didn't understand at all. 

Deimos didn't respond, a grim smile frozen on his lips, breaking their intense eye contact in favor of looking down at his scarred pale hands. "I thought…" Deimos began, but didn't finish. Didn't seem able to finish anything he'd started, Ethos thought bitterly, and then jerked back in surprise as he realized he was a bit more than _slightly_ aroused. _Oh_ , Ethos thought, gears whirring and clicking into place in his mind as he finally realized he _did_ have someone else who turned him on. 

Barely a moment before this revelation had passed and Ethos' lips were on Deimos', and it was almost like kissing a girl with the fighter's soft lips and gentle probes with a long and narrow tongue. He allowed Deimos to slip his tongue inside his mouth, moaning into the kiss as he felt the fighter's tongue tangle with his own, massaging it tentatively as though asking for permission. It was Ethos who deepened the kiss first, mind reeling at the thought of dominating a fighter, feeling like nothing less than a lion tamer seeing just how far he could go. His hands reached up of their own accord, sliding over the fighter's tense muscles, over his shoulder and up to his neck, one hand tangling in silky black locks and the other lightly cupping the back of Deimos' neck. Ethos felt something hard prod him suddenly and almost laughed into Deimos' mouth, squeezing his hand tighter around the other man's neck, thinking that he could almost get off from this feeling of domination alone. 

That thought didn't last long as sly hands slid down over his ass, tugging him closer against Deimos' lithe body and forcing him to grind against the fighter's erection. "Mm- Deimos-" Ethos began, hands sliding up to his chest, not sure if he wanted to push the man away or pull him closer. Deimos' response was to kiss him harder, slamming his lips violently into Ethos' and teasing a finger up and down his spine, stopping just before the dip of his back, tickling sensation making Ethos squirm against him. He felt the fighter's breath come faster as he did so, and grinned mischievously, leaning on Deimos as he shoved his thigh between the fighter's legs and brought it up to rub firmly against the bulge of his crotch. Deimos tilted back his head with a gasp and Ethos kissed eagerly up and down his neck, sucking lightly wherever he could reach, knowing without being told that he shouldn't leave a mark. That wasn't for _him_ to do. 

Ethos felt Deimos' hum vibrate against his lips, and dragged his open mouth up Deimos' skin to nip lightly at his jaw, hot breath warming Deimos' entire body and centering in his groin. Deimos ground against Ethos' thigh desperately, trying to draw him impossibly closer, delicate brows drawing together with pained pleasure. Wanting to spur Ethos into giving him more Deimos slipped his hand down between them to take hold of the navigators' exposed cock, thumb rubbing over the slit gently. Ethos gasped into Deimos' neck, hot and heavy, pressing his hips further into the man's hand, rubbing his cock roughly against the fighter. Deimos answered his silent request by moving his hand firmly up and down, stroking slower as he reached the base and going just a bit faster and harder as he reached the weeping head of Ethos' cock, spreading precum over his fingers to make his hand glide faster. Forgetting his silent promise, Ethos bit into the junction of Deimos' thin shoulder, trying to muffle his passionate moans. The fighter's hand only moved faster against him, open mouth seeking out Ethos' lips and biting them punishingly, the tang of blood arousing both men even further. 

"No- not here," Ethos moaned, pushing back against Deimos despite his body's cry for relief, trying to get the message across before his mind grew too foggy with arousal. "Somewhere- bed- lube-" The navigator scarcely had time to get a full sentence together before Deimos' lips left his and he felt himself being lifted up, light steps bouncing him around in Deimos' arms as the bathroom door swung open and the dark hallway of the Slepnir began speeding past them. 

"Deimos," Ethos laughed in surprise, wriggling around in arms that only tightened around him. " _Deimos,_ " he repeated, nervously, trying to wrench his body out of the stronger man's grasp. "What are you- someone could see us, I mean what if- if Praxis, or _Cain_ -" Deimos' arms squeezed so tightly around him that the breath left his body in a _whoosh_ and he had to collapse back against Deimos in order to regain it.

"You talk too much," Deimos reprimanded his steps turned into jogging, irritation lacing through his tone. Ethos stopped protesting, allowing the fighter to carry him bridal style to the room he shared with his navigator, closing his eyes and silently praying that no one saw them on the way, sure that someone would.

But they reached the room safely, the door sliding silently open and shut behind them, and Deimos dropped Ethos gently on the bed before covering him with his own warm body. Ethos reached up to unzip the fighter's uniform with shaking hands, accidentally flicking the zipper and and forth several times before cool hands covered his and helped him drag it down, revealing skin too pale and delicate to belong to a fighter. But as more of Deimos was revealed Ethos began to see just how scarred the man was; criss-crossed marks running all along his arms and down his chest. His heart ached for the fighter before him, wondering just who had given Deimos these scars, wondering if he had given them to himself, knowing he had thought along those lines himself more than a few times. He absently traced a finger over one of the raised bits of flesh near Deimos' nipple and the man stiffened, hardly noticeable if Ethos hadn't been staring at Deimos' body so intently. He scolded himself inwardly for being so insensitive, brushing his fingers past the brutal scar and rubbing his fingers along Deimos' areola, bending himself forwards to give it a tentative lick. Deimos' hand slid up his neck and into his hair in appreciation, fingers getting gently tangled in curly blonde locks. Ethos busied himself with getting out of his own flight suit, arms getting tangled almost immediately and making Ethos blush hot with embarrassment as Deimos had to help him get it off just as he had with his own uniform. He nearly ran out of the room then and there, mortified at having made the same blunder twice, feeling like a clumsy virgin all over again. But Deimos soothed him with calm, steady hands running over his body like water, kneading the tension out of him even though he didn't say a word, making Ethos relax back into the sheets with a sigh as Deimos leaned over him, scattering cool kisses over his warm skin, moving up his chest until his lips were trailing against Ethos' jaw and then up some more. Ethos could feel Deimos' thick erection pressing into his thigh, firm and teasing, wishing more than anything it would press up against his own stiff cock and give them both a bit of relief. He shifted his hips, rubbing slightly against Deimos' crotch, and felt more than heard the man take a sharp intake of breath by his ear. 

"Mm.. I want you inside of me, _milaya moya_ ," Deimos breathed hotly after a moment of grinding back down into Ethos, his breath tickling Ethos' ear before he stuck his tongue all the way into it. Ethos jerked, not having been expecting it, shuddering as Deimos' talented tongue flicked over the curve of his ear, trailing down to bite the lobe softly and begin sucking wetly. Even just the feeling of Deimos' lips on his ear sent pleasure shooting straight to his groin and got his mind envisioning all sorts of dirty things he could make the fighter do with a mouth like that. Deimos' words got through to him after a long delay, the fighter's desires at last clicking among his hazy lust-filled thoughts. 

"Wait a second," Ethos gasped, putting a hand on Deimos' chest and getting slightly distracted by the hard planes he found. He felt the fighter pull back slightly, disconcerted, and wanted nothing more than to press his lips against the man's in a passionate kiss, somehow convey just how much he wanted this, just how little Deimos had to worry. Ethos licked his lips, pulling himself together before asking throatily, "Have you got a condom?" 

The fighter stared at him for a moment, wide-eyed, before letting out a sharp, rasping laugh that to Ethos sounded almost painful. The navigator frowned; it sounded like it had been too long since the man had laughed, but this wasn't exactly what Ethos wanted him to be laughing at. "What?" he snapped, awkwardness slipping fast into irritation. 

"N- no one's ever asked me that before," Deimos said, breath hitching in what Ethos thought might be a giggle. To his dismay the navigator felt his cheeks beginning to burn. 

"Well, they _should_ have!" Ethos exclaimed indignantly, crossing his arms over his chest in an act of self-consciousness. "I'm not doing this without one!" Deimos hushed him softly, running a comforting hand up Ethos' arm and gently drawing it away from his chest. 

"Of course, _moy dorogoi,_ " the fighter replied, and Ethos had no idea what that meant but his stomach unclenched nonetheless. Deimos gave Ethos' lips a final lick before pulling away, the navigator mourning the loss of warmth already, and moving swiftly over to the bureau next to the bunk bed, sliding out the middle drawer and pulling out several different colored condoms along with a small bottle of lube. 

"If no one's ever asked you before, why are you prepared," he asked suspiciously, watching the dark-haired man before him, all dark hair and too-pale skin. 

"My roommate's," Deimos replied, looking at him like he was an idiot, and despite this Ethos noticed how he didn't say _my navigator_ , didn't use the condescending tone other fighters did when speaking of them, didn't call his partner a bitch or a whore or just _him_ like Praxis did. He didn't have long to brood on it as he felt a dip in the mattress and then warm fingers enveloping his cock, giving it a few tugs before leaving to open up a condom packet. 

"Grape or orange?" the fighter murmured, and Ethos stared at him confusedly, wondering how Deimos always managed to throw him for a loop so easily. Deimos misread his expression, adding hastily, "We can use the apple if you want, I just don't really like apple…" 

There was no fruit anywhere in the room- hell, Ethos could hardly remember the last time he'd been able to _afford_ a fresh apple- but his eyes slid down to the condoms in Deimos' hand and he understood. "Orange, I think," he said, sly smile spreading across his face. "But it's really whatever _you_ prefer, Deimos- after all, you're going to be the one tasting it." He took the packet gently from the fighter's grip, opening the orange one and rolling the condom down over his erection. Deimos smiled. 

"I like orange," he said, before going down on Ethos. The navigator almost choked as he felt Deimos' warm mouth envelop him, bearing down until the tip of the fighter's nose was pressing against Ethos' pelvis. Ethos held very, very still, shocked at the sight before him and trying desperately not to come as soon as light eyes peeked up at him under the mass of smooth black hair. They made eye contact for a moment, full of electric intensity, before Deimos deliberately swallowed around Ethos' cock, hard. 

"Hnng!" It was all the navigator could do not to thrust hard into the fighter's mouth. He fisted a handful of Deimos' hair, tugging him back up his erection a bit so that he could slowly press into his mouth again, reveling again in the feeling of control. Deimos licked enthusiastically up and down his dick, seeming to enjoy the taste of orange even more than Ethos had expected. Ethos pressed a heavy hand on Deimos' shoulder, making him sit up and stay in place as he fucked his mouth slowly, drawing all the way out before pressing back in, moving his hips in a small circle to force the man to keep his jaw wide open as he sucked. Drool pooled at the corners of Deimos' mouth and Ethos smiled gently down at him, fingers tightening in black hair as he began moving faster, breath coming out in soft pants. 

"Do you want to touch yourself, Deimos?" he asked, holding the man's head in place as he thrust harder in and out. Deimos made a small noise in the back of his throat which vibrated through Ethos' dick, sending shocks of pleasure through his body, and he pressed his cock into the fighter harder and held it there, knowing he was nearly choking the man and getting off on it. Deimos seemed to enjoy it as well, eyes squeezing shut tightly and free hands moving down to envelop his own neglected dick, stroking it into full hardness. Ethos groaned, hardly able to imagine anything sexier. 

"Did I give you permission to do that?" he snapped playfully, giving his groin a hard shove into Deimos' mouth. The fighter actually did gag this time, convulsing throat squeezing Ethos' dick and making his balls draw up close until he was sure he would come if he didn't get out. He dragged Deimos off him with one hand, pushing him down on the mattress with the other. Ethos wasted no time in grabbing both of Deimos' hands off his erection and raising them above his head, crossing the fighter's slender wrists so he could hold them in one hand while he fumbled with the lube, uncapping it with his teeth and squeezing a healthy dollop onto Deimos' stomach. Deimos' muscles shivered under the cold, sensitive with arousal, and Ethos smeared his fingers in it, making sure to grab up extra to tease around the fighter's hole, lubing him up before slowly pressing a single finger into him. 

Deimos stopped squirming beneath him, holding still and angling his hips up eagerly as Ethos slowly began to fuck him with one finger, marveling at how loose and in control of his own body the fighter seemed to be, trying not to wonder how many other people had been where he is now, knowing it didn't matter anyways because none of them had been Ethos and surely none of them had wanted Deimos the way the navigator wanted him now. It wasn't long before Ethos added a second finger, stretching and scissoring inside of Deimos and searching for the spot that would make him scream. The fighter before him was completely silent, but he was biting his lower lip hard and sweat was beading on his forehead. Ethos could almost feel the man's pulse in his own hand, strong and so, so fast, and watched in fascination as Deimos' cock twitched and began leaking from the stimulation of his fingers alone. Giving into impulse, he leaned forwards and took the head of Deimos' erection into his mouth, tongue lapping up the salty precum hungrily. Deimos made a guttural sound at the back of his throat, hips jerking towards Ethos' mouth and then down hard onto his fingers. Ethos grinned around Deimos' cock, delighted to have gotten a rise out of him. He slowly pulled Deimos' dick out of his mouth, sucking all the while, and heard the man stifle a groan. 

"You like that, Deimos?" he asked teasingly, shoving his fingers in an out of him at an even, unrelenting pace, pressing one hand on Deimos' toned stomach to stop his hips from moving with him. "You like me fucking your pussy just like this?" Deimos' hips twitched of their own accord, frantically impaling themselves on his fingers, and Ethos gasped from the intensity of it. _It was wrong_ , he knew, _it was wrong_ to be here fucking Deimos, wrong when both of them were in love with someone else, wrong when he was trying to be as much like Cain as he could, just wanting _someone_ to be satisfied by him, even if it wasn't the real him. Wrong when he was just using Deimos to play out his own fantasy of fucking Praxis, of dominating his own fighter, who was nothing like Deimos at all when it came down to it. But with Deimos convulsing around his fingers and his own erection standing at attention it was all too easy for Ethos to put these thoughts out of his mind, watching as Deimos' face screwed up in an expression of intense pleasure, hips snapping forwards uncontrollably and legs beginning to shake from need. He could tell the fighter was close, so close, if the heavy pants and soft groans were any indication. He knew all it would take was a couple of jerks of Deimos' dick and the fighter would be spilling his load but Ethos didn't want that, didn't want this to be so impersonal as that, didn't want Deimos to be able to pretend it was anyone but him making him cum. 

Ethos withdrew his fingers fully, ignoring the way Deimos' hips pushed forwards to compensate, the way the fighter glared up at him shakily under his bangs with a frown on his face at being denied his release. 

"No," Ethos said softly, reaching his clean hand up to brush Deimos' bangs away tenderly, "I want you to cum with me inside you." When Deimos didn't respond, he pulled back, displeased, reprimanding himself for being too intimate. Thinking guiltily of Cain, Ethos slapped one asscheek as hard as he could, watching the skin blossom red almost immediately. "Is that what you want, Deimos?" 

Deimos nodded immediately, eyes fluttering closed in expectation, but it still wasn't good enough for Ethos. He weighed his body his body down onto the fighter's, teasing his dick around Deimos' hole, pushing just the tip in before withdrawing. "Say it," he growled, voice low and husky with arousal. Deimos would never have expected such dominance from the navigator, but he couldn't deny how much harder it made him with the larger man hovering over him with something akin to a threat in his eyes. 

"Y-yes," Deimos gasped, impatient and almost painfully hard. "Yes, Ethos, _please, pazhalsta,_ " he begged, barely aware of what he was saying, knowing he would say anything at all to get Ethos to hurry up, reaching towards Ethos' ass to pull him closer, to at least press their erections together, anything, _something_. 

" _Pokazhi pizdu detka,_ " Ethos said, and Deimos' eyes grew incredibly large, letting out a small moan at his words. Ethos smiled to himself, glad for once for the time he spent on Colony 6, glad the only Russian words he'd learned could finally come in handy. 

" _Da,_ " Deimos panted, angling his hips up towards Ethos, " _Da_ , Ethos, oh, _Ethos_!" Deimos' voice cracked on his name as Ethos filled him with one hard shove, cock pulsing hot inside of him, setting his whole body on fire. He felt Ethos shiver inside of him, waiting for him to adjust before moving, as though Deimos would break if he wasn't careful. The fighter shoved his hips back against Ethos hard, inwardly smirking as he heard the man choke back a powerful groan, unable to stop his own hips from snapping forwards. Deimos arched against him, angling himself so that the curve of Ethos' dick would just reach that spot inside of him, the feel of Ethos' hard stomach rubbing against his own sensitive cock almost too much and he was already too close, everything winding up tight inside of him and burning, body screaming at him desperately for release as he humped desperately against the navigator, shivering and mewling with every deep thrust Ethos managed. 

The navigator pounded into him mercilessly, mouth caught up in a heavy animalistic snarl as Deimos' soft wails reached his ears, cheeks flushed with arousal and the effort of keeping up such a heavy pace. He leaned in to press his mouth desperately against Deimos', needing to feel closer, and their teeth clacked as Deimos' back snapped up into an impossible curve, silent cry leaving his lips as he shuddered around Ethos, ass tightening more than the navigator could've ever imagined, coming hard between them, hot ropes of jizz splashing across Ethos' chest. Deimos collapsed bonelessly back into the bed as Ethos continued pounding into him, desperate now for his own release, sweat dripping off his chest as Deimos brought a hand up to tweak his nipples, running his fingers over Ethos' torso and down to where their bodies connected, digging his nails into Ethos' skin and leaving red welts behind. 

"Deimos- I- ah, _ah_ -" Ethos panted, and Deimos reached a bit further to grab his ass and tug him in closer, harder. Ethos' thrusts shoved his body up and down, and he could feel every muscle tense as Ethos' rhythm began to break, fast and disjointed. "Deimos," Ethos was gasping, over and over, "I'm going to cum, Deimos, I'm going to- I'm- _I'm_ -"

"Cum for me," Deimos whispered hoarsely, and Ethos gave a final hard thrust and came with a howl, hot spurts of cum squeezed out by Deimos' body, wet and pliant underneath him. 

"Ugh!" Ethos groaned, eyes rolling in back in his head as his hips finally slowed, body convulsing with the strength of his orgasm. His shaking arms could barely hold him up anymore and he fell into Deimos' body with an _oomph_ , overly-sensitive muscles twitching as the fighter's arms came around him and pushed him sideways into a more comfortable position, making his softening cock slip easily out of Deimos' ass. Ethos let out another groan, softer this time, still feeling the aftereffects of electric shocks running up and down his body. His noises slowly grew quieter and more content as Deimos continued to trail a hand up and down his naked contour, rhythmic and calming, their breathing evening out together in the comfortable silence. 

Ethos was already mostly asleep and dreaming happily of an eyepatch covering oddly-pale eyes when he felt Deimos stir beside him, withdrawing his hands and sitting up gingerly. He opened one eye, prepared to lazily demand that Deimos get back to cuddling and froze as he saw the man already moving to wipe himself off and put his clothes back on. _Oh,_ he thought, not understanding why the pang of disappointment was so strong within him as he watched Deimos silently, body tensing once more.

Deimos paused when he noticed Ethos' eyes watching him, grabbing an extra tissue from the box on the bureau and moving to sit down beside the navigator. Soundlessly he wiped the larger man down with a tenderness out of place in a fighter, leaning forwards to press a soft kiss against Ethos' lips when he was done, moving away before the tired navigator could respond. 

"But- why are you leaving?" Ethos asked hoarsely after a moment, throat uncomfortably tight even as his body was relaxed. 

Deimos turned to him impeccably dressed once more, and smiled at him sadly. "Second best isn't bad," he said softly, before slinking quietly out of the room. 

The words circled around in Ethos' head over and over again until he fell asleep, still feeling the ghost of Deimos' lips upon his.


	2. Chapter 2

Ethos awoke with a jolt, sore and disoriented. He glanced over to his right to check the time only to be met with a blank, grey wall-- but that wasn't how his bed was set up... "Wait!" Ethos squealed, jumping up and cracking his head on the bunk bed above him. "Ow!" He stumbled out of the lower bunk, wide-eyed and naked and stinking of dried sweat and sex. His head snapped up as he heard footsteps shuffle by the door, staring at the panel like a deer in headlights. The sounds paused for a moment as though someone knew that Ethos was in there, just waiting to be caught. But the steps continued down the hallway after a moment, light and even. Ethos didn't move until the last echo had faded away, and then he snapped into action, gathering his uniform up into his arms and making a mad dash for the bathroom, locking the door behind him with a tense sigh. He rinsed himself off as quickly as he could in the shower without getting water on his hair, knowing it would look suspicious if he left someone else's room soaking wet. The time counter in the wall showed it was only five past nine; he had napped for maybe half an hour tops. 

Still, he couldn't believe his audacity to fall asleep in someone else's room in the state that he was in. Even stranger then that was the fact that Deimos had let him. Ethos sighed as he turned the shower off, the last few drops of warm water sliding off his body leaving a chill that stuck to his skin even after he'd shrugged his clothing on. The navigator was careful to leave no trace he had been there except for the water drying on the tiles, vents turned up all the way to get rid of the steam. 

Ethos hurried back to his room, unwilling to test his luck, sure it would run out soon enough. He nearly ran into a small group of fighters when he took a wrong turn, having been mindlessly following his feet without figuring out the location of Deimos' room in relation to his. But he found his way soon enough, adrenaline sharpening his sense of direction. He didn't think he would ever be so glad to see his own plain gray door as he was at the moment as he rounded what seemed like the millionth corridor, every hallway on the ship nearly identical with one another. 

Trotting eagerly up to his door, Ethos paused for a second, reveling in all that had happened. It seemed like only yesterday he'd met Deimos- and even less time since Praxis had come into his life, and he'd fallen head over heels for the melancholic fighter, hours, maybe minutes. Ethos leaned against the doorframe of his room for a moment, filled with relief and disbelief in equal parts. He pressed the button to open the panel, brushing his thumb against the doorway afterwards, a small superstition of his and his fighter whenever they went to and from the room. 

"Oh!" Ethos gasped, blush invading his cheeks as he saw the man standing before him, thinking of what he had done not an hour earlier. "Praxis, you're actually here!" 

"Ethos," his fighter murmured unenthusiastically, and Ethos almost took a step backwards before forcing himself further into the room. It was his quarters too, after all.

"We'll be entering Colteron space soon," he said, trying to sound professional, ignoring that his legs felt like jello and he could still smell Deimos all over his body. Something seemed off about Praxis as well, the man seeming even more distracted than usual. A nasty gloom surrounded him and for the first time Ethos wished he'd missed Praxis after all, wished for time to lie down and bask in thoughts of another man for once, one whose pale eyes never seemed to leave him, whose lips sounded out his name with far more reverence than Praxis ever did. A heavy sigh forced its way out of him as he wondered just when exactly he had started comparing the two fighters, and when exactly Praxis had started to come off so much worse.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ethos goes to see Deimos after the Big Night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick headcanon for this story: doors on the Slepnir are motion-sensing and slide open automatically unless someone specifically turns that function off. 
> 
> Thanks for reading y'all!

It was several days before Ethos gathered enough courage to stand before Deimos' door, nervousness tying his stomach into knots and halting the hand he had lifted to knock. He knew he should just wait until Deimos came to see him, knew the smaller man liked his space, most likely _needed_ his space, but Ethos was never one for mystery and side-stepping. He was open, and honest, and far more emotional than anyone in the army was probably supposed to be. But he couldn't help it, and if Deimos was to be sleeping with him he'd have to learn to get used to it. 

He pushed that thought out of his mind before it had even finished, unwilling to follow down that path. Nevertheless, his mind began wandering… _him and Deimos at a party… him and Deimos on leave… him and Deimo_ \-- the door slid open before he could decide what to do, and Ethos froze, caught like a deer in headlights. But there was no one at the door at all, only strange, strangled noises from deep inside the room. Maybe this was Deimos' way of inviting him in? Surely the fighter must want to see him, otherwise he wouldn't have left his door on auto… 

"Deimos?" Ethos asked, sliding into the room cautiously, unable to stop himself from glancing over at the bathroom and hoping he hadn't left any signs he'd been in there. A low moan came from his left and he turned his head slowly, apprehensively, intuitively knowing he shouldn't be looking. 

A pale ass was the first thing to meet his eyes, and it took him a moment to register that he was staring at Deimos' back, identifying him only by the dark hair that was just peeking up beside a head of brilliant blonde. The blonde's face was pressed hard into the mattress but muffled moans were still reverberating off the walls as Deimos moved them both together, balls slapping against the other man's ass as he penetrated the navigator, fast and smooth, over and over again. 

A choked noise made its way up Ethos' throat and he clapped a hand over his mouth before he could make a sound, trying to back out of the room without looking away and stumbling up against the bureau. The cheap metal drawers rattled under his weight, open bottle of lube falling over onto the floor with a clatter. Ethos stared at it, frozen, unable to stop the memory of his teeth around the cap. There were no condom wrappers in sight and Ethos found an odd sense of pride welling up in him which made absolutely no sense in conjunction with the situation he had gotten himself in; all he knew was that he didn't want Deimos licking orange off of anyone else, or sneering over apple, or contemplating grape. 

A terrible idea came to him then; maybe Deimos and the blonde didn't use condoms together because they were in a _committed_ partnership; maybe they only kept them there for their escapades with other men. Horrified at the thought, Ethos pulled himself together enough to turn away from the sight of the two men fucking, shirt catching on the edge of the bureau and making him fall into it again. This time the noise was unmistakeable as he couldn't help a curse from slipping out of his mouth, and Ethos knew they must have heard him. He bolted for the door without looking back, nearly tripping over his own two feet in desperation. The panel was thankfully still open and he tore out of the room like a man running for his life, whirling around to jam his hand against the close button the second he was free. 

"Ethos-" a confused voice rasped out as Ethos slammed the door shut, pressing his body against it as though to hold the image at bay as he slid down to the floor, heart hammering painfully in his chest. His head fell into his hands and he clenched at his curls, twisting them around his fingers as he muttered, "Stupid Ethos, stupid, _stupid_ boy…" 

Deimos was inside of someone on the bed they had done it on just a few days earlier. And, from the looks of it, it was probably Deimos' navigator. Or some navigator; at this rate, no individual choice would surprise Ethos at all. Ethos felt his cheeks flush in equal parts embarrassment and anger the more he thought about it, feeling shame worm its way down into his very bones. How could he have been so naive?! He was hardly some blushing virgin; Deimos hadn't been anything close to his first and he certainly didn't expect the man to be his last, but still-- Ethos scrambled to his feet, striding resolutely back to his room where he knew Praxis was studying; the fighter had been in the room more and more since Ethos had first returned from his escapade with Deimos, and now Ethos saw it as a tiny gift from god himself.

_Two can play at this game, _he thought sadistically, lips pressed into a small, grim smile.__


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks so much for reading and commenting, y'all! It's really very motivating <3

Ethos' resolve to seduce Praxis to get back at Deimos barely lasted until the end of the corridor, at which point his feet had already begun dragging and all he could think about was wanting to gouge his eyes out. The image of Deimos and the other man was burned into the back of his lids and he hated it more with ever passing second, knowing that there was no way he could hurt Deimos in the same way Deimos had hurt him. Knowing he had no right to be hurt in the first place. Knowing he never should have allowed Deimos to touch him for the first time, to kiss him for the first time, and certainly to speak with him that first time that he did, sounding so kind and understanding about how hard life on the Slepnir was for Ethos. 

He wasn't so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn't notice the light footsteps behind him, stumbling just a tiny bit in their haste, accompanied by the sound of a zipper being tugged up quickly. Ethos waited for Deimos to catch up to him with his back turned, tense and anxious to get the impending conversation over with. When Deimos' small hand brushed against his shoulder he surprised them both by grabbing it, pulling Deimos down in front of him as he whirled around, curls bouncing furiously and getting in the way of his vision. After a moment of silent eye contact Ethos realized that he was basically holding the fighter's hand, and slid his palm up until his thicker fingers were gripping Deimos' slim wrist tight. 

"Aren't you going to say anything?" he asked, and out of the corner of his eye he just barely caught Deimos flicking something out of his sleeve, felt the cool press of steel against his neck a moment later. 

"You lied to me," Ethos hissed after a pregnant pause, scared silly but trying to act undaunted, hand squeezing Deimos' wrist until he thought he felt the bones grind together. He wanted to let go but the fighter's grip on the knife was firm and unrelenting and it was too late to decide that he didn't want to know about the man's scars after all. "You know where the condoms are, you know what flavor you like- and yet no one's ever asked you before, huh?! God, I'm not _stupid_ , I just- I just _trusted_ you!" 

"Nobody's ever asked," the fighter replied, deadpan, and damn him for making Ethos watch the way his lips moved, still wet and slightly puffy from his previous activities.

"Oh, so they just _demanded_ that you wear a condom. Poor you," Ethos spat sarcastically just a second too late, not sure where all this ire was coming from. 

"I never asked for your pity," Deimos murmured, far calmer than he was, and Ethos could've sworn that for a moment he felt his blood boil. "I never lied to you. And I don't want to start now."

Ethos took a deep, shaky breath, fingers brushing along Deimos' wrist absently as he shoved his anger away. "Omitting information is just as bad, Deimos. I don't want you to do that. You can't," --he looked up, bright eyes searching Deimos' face as he spoke-- "you can't do that if you want this to work. Okay? Whatever this is."

Deimos stared back at him before giving him a sharp, almost imperceptible nod, and Ethos released his grip on the fighter slowly, cautiously, watching as Deimos pulled the knife back at last, tucking it into his sleeve with a blank look on his face. The man was shutting down before him, withdrawing into his own little world and Ethos could do nothing to stop it-- it was his fault this time, getting so rough with Deimos like that, what had he been thinking?!

He hadn't been thinking, and that's exactly what got them into this mess in the first place. 

"Does… does this mean you want a- a ' _this_ '?" Ethos asked, stumbling over his words and feeling a flush begin to creep up over his neck and face. He forced himself not to cover his flaming cheeks as he watched the fighter shrug, seemingly indifferent, both of them now with powerful frowns on their faces. "But- why not?" Ethos pushed, sure he shouldn't and doing it all the same. He took a step forwards, and another, and they hadn't been that far apart to begin with and now their chests bumped together and he reached down to link his fingers with Deimos' loosely. "Don't you like me?" 

Deimos nodded immediately at this, hand squeezing Ethos' tight for a brief moment before letting go. They both looked down at their shoes and Ethos tried not to snap at Deimos, to demand the man before him to just _talk_ , to explain, to say what he wanted from him. But he wouldn't be Deimos if he did all those things, and Ethos wanted Deimos, flaws and quirks and all. "You can still see other people," the navigator ventured, hoping he'd guessed Deimos' hesitation right. "People like… like whoever that was, or- or Cain…" 

Deimos nodded again, more enthusiastically this time, and Ethos let go of a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding, feeling the constriction around his heart loosen just a little bit. "I'm okay with that," Ethos said brightly, with a small smile. At this point, he would take whatever he could get. "I mean, I like Praxis too after all. And there's a navigator who just transferred here who isn't so bad. We eat lunch together… and I'm getting off track, sorry," he amended hastily as he saw Deimos give him a pointed look. "I just… I just want to know, okay? I want you to tell me if you're seeing other people. Especially so that doesn't happen again," he added with a slight shudder, wondering if he should bring up the condom thing. _Knowing_ he should bring up the condom thing, but far too shy, feeling like the situation was far too delicate already, worried he would scare Deimos off and accidentally end everything at any moment. Instead, he brought his hand up to Deimos' cheek, thumb brushing up against the fighter's soft, pale skin. "Okay?" he asked again, and this time his voice shook slightly with uncertainty. 

Deimos brought his own hand up to cup Ethos' face, and Ethos felt his heart pound in anticipation and confusion. _Okay_ , Deimos mouthed, and leaned in to press his lips against Ethos', softly at first and then more firmly as Ethos responded.

He could taste the other navigator on the fighter's lips.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ethos talks a lot and Deimos... doesn't.
> 
> EDIT: OMG, and credit to Elisetales, who came up with Aleks for Deimos :)

Ethos pulled back suddenly, and Deimos held in a sigh of frustration, wondering what he'd done wrong now. But the navigator's strong arms wrapped around his waist immediately after, trapping him, and Ethos' hot breath against his cheek stopped him from running away even if he had, for a split second, desperately wanted to.

Ethos was murmuring something against his skin and it took Deimos a second to reorganize the muffled sounds into words --" _even if that's all I am to you_ "-- and then Ethos was pulling back again, this time to look him in the eye expectantly, as though waiting for an answer. Silly boy. Hadn't he learned yet that Deimos never answers? 

Not that he'd been listening to the question, anyways. Ethos seemed to pick up on his small bit of cluelessness, opening his mouth once more to explain further. If he didn't have such a wonderfully smooth voice Deimos would've tuned out long ago-- but curiosity kept him at attention, marveling at the idea that he, with his own broken voice, his sad, raspy whispers, could ever be cared for by a creature like Ethos, so unbroken, voice still whole and well-oiled and completely naive to the ways of the world that had ruined Deimos in the first place.

Deimos blinked, coming back down to the Slepnir abruptly as Ethos' arms flexed against him. "Ugh, will you _pay attention?!_ " Ethos was huffing in frustration, and if his arms hadn't been busy around Deimos' waist the fighter was sure the navigator's hands would've been tugging at his curls helplessly. 

"You're not- I don't- don't give me that second best bullshit like you did earlier, okay?!" the blonde half-growled, making himself far more vulnerable than he should ever be in front of a fighter, and especially in front of Deimos. The raven-haired man watched silently as color crept up Ethos' neck, washing his cheeks in a wave of scarlet and continuing all the way to the points of his ears. Something deep in the pit of his stomach felt strange when Ethos took a deep breath inwards, and his long blond lashes fluttered against his cheeks like the butterflies Deimos heard they had on Earth. 

"Maybe I'm second best for you, okay, fine… but it's bad, okay?" Deimos frowned, watching as Ethos' eyes opened wide again and the butterflies disappeared. He almost brought a hand up to Ethos' face, wanting to capture them before they were lost forever, but the blonde was still talking despite Deimos himself having nothing to say. "It sucks. It's always sucked. But I guess that's what brought us together in the first place, right?" 

Ethos peeked up at Deimos through his frizzy blonde curls and now he looked more like the beautiful porcelain doll that a girl used to drag around back in the colonies, brushing its stringy blonde hair during free time with something akin to awe. Ethos' hand tightened around Deimos and Deimos allowed it, curving his back a bit to fit better into Ethos' touch. "I'm not going to pretend it doesn't feel like shit. And I don't want you to pretend, either." 

His doll was hurting and Deimos didn't know what to say, didn't know if any hoarse, broken words could comfort the man in front of him like the man would want, so he slid agilely out of the navigator's grasp and knelt at his feet, knees hitting the hard floor with a crack. Deimos ignored the slight pain in favor of undoing the clasp of Ethos' belt with expert hands, feeling the navigator's thick cock already stirring beneath him. He palmed the growing bulge, rubbing up and down firmly as Ethos took a shuddering breath. Deimos squeezed his eyes shut as he leaned forwards to drag his tongue across the navigator's crotch through the fabric of his pants, wondering idly if this was what Earth tasted like.

A hand tangled itself in his hair but instead of pushing him forwards it pulled him back, harshly, letting go at the last moment so that he was flung back onto the floor, knife clattering out of his sleeve and ending up at his side. Largely unfazed Deimos memorized the knife's position carefully, waiting for an opportunity to grab it should the navigator decide to attack him again. 

But Ethos just stood there, red-faced and panting hard, hands curled into fists at his side. "What are you _doing?!_ " he half-yelled, half-gasped, voice cracking on the end note. "You really think this is the time for some quickie blow job?!" Obviously the answer was no considering Ethos' reaction, but Deimos didn't dare answer and mess things up further. It was all too complicated, more complicated than he would ever allow if Ethos hadn't given him a mindblowing orgasm just the day before. Ethos' eyes softened as he looked down on the prone fighter, surely wondering if this was the result of Cain's brutal training, perhaps wishing that he'd been able to get to Deimos first. A wasted wish, Deimos knew. "You don't-" Ethos began, and then stopped, twiddling his thumbs in front of him and bending down to be on Deimos' level to look him in the eye properly. 

"You don't think I only want you for sex, do you, Deimos?" Deimos' pale eyes bore into the navigator's soundlessly and Ethos cursed, letting his body drop onto the floor fully and putting his face in his palms. "How did everything get so messed up," Ethos murmured into his fingers, and Deimos felt the beginnings of a headache pulsing in his temple.

"When we first met," Ethos said, lifting his head out of his palms but apparently still unwilling to look Deimos in the eye, "When we first met, it was just… talking. Remember? We just talked. Or didn't talk. And it was fine, I didn't… I didn't expect anything from you, and you didn't expect anything from me, at least, I don't think you did, and that was fine. That was good. I'm… I'm sorry I fucked everything up." He raised his head to Deimos at last, and his eyes were brighter than they were supposed to be, but the butterflies were back and that made Deimos happy. "I'm really sorry, Deimos, I mean it." He gave a soft laugh when the fighter still didn't respond. "I don't even know your real name… how pathetic of me..." 

"Aleks," Deimos' rough voice responded before he could stop it, watching as the navigator's body jerked in surprise. He vaguely recognized that he was a bit shocked himself, sure that his voice had left him for good the whole time that Ethos had been talking. But-- "My name is Aleks."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rawr, sorry for the long wait between updates! My writing muse is on vacation so I'm just sitting here plunking out words on the keyboard all on my own. :P
> 
> Thanks for reading and commenting and being awesome as always!


	6. Chapter 6

"Eh?" Ethos said dumbly, thinking he must've misheard, waiting for Deimos to tell him off for thinking of him as anything but a hot fuck. 

But Deimos didn't tell him off; didn't say anything at all, pale eyes downcast and long dark lashes fluttering against his sallow skin. In that moment he was breathtakingly beautiful; vulnerable and strong at the same time, delicate and dangerous, and Ethos felt his heart clench with the urge to reach out and touch the man before him, filled with the feeling that Deimos would dissolve into smoke at any moment.

"Aleks? Is.. is that your name?" He didn't dare hope, but he couldn't stop the floating feeling overtaking his limbs, happy and slightly shocked. It only got worse when Deimos nodded ever so slightly and his heart skipped a beat. Oh man, was he in deep. Ethos sat there dumbly for several minutes, neither man moving at all but to breath, wondering if he should take the next step and reciprocate. People simply didn't tell each other their names, not during war, not when they were all nameless soldiers anyways. 

"Eliot," he said, looking down bashfully, wondering how long it would take to regret his decision. "My name is Eliot." 

Deimos stared at him so intently that Ethos shifted uncomfortably, wishing he had something better to do with his hands than fidget. "What?" the navigator asked, slight irritation bleeding into his voice as it always did when he got embarrassed. 

"Such a navigator name." Deimos' shoulders twitched and it took a moment for Ethos to realize that he was laughing, in his own quiet way. Ethos nearly burst out laughing himself out of relief and the pure silliness of the situation, both of them sitting on the floor more broken and vulnerable than any good soldiers should be. 

"Is not!" Ethos found himself saying indignantly, but a small smile was playing across his lips. Deimos shrugged and this time Ethos did let out a laugh, hearing how childish he sounded but unable to help it, giggles overtaking his voice as he watched Deimos' befuddled look, which only made him chuckle harder. 

"You're so weird!" Ethos laughed, and Deimos blanched, looking incredibly uncomfortable with the whole situation. 

"You're… you're… _laughing! At me!_ " the fighter exclaimed, sounding completely aghast, voice becoming clearer and smoother the more he talked. When Deimos' mouth shut with a snap Ethos grabbed his chin lightly, rubbing his thumb over thin lips and grinning ear-to-ear. 

"Yes, and I'll do it even more if that's what it takes to make you talk," Ethos said a bit giddily, wondering if Deimos only deigned to talk to certain people, feeling quite special about it on the inside. They stayed like that for a bit, Ethos' thumb on Deimos' lips, Deimos offering up light licks to his fingers and Ethos trying not to get aroused. 

"I'm sorry too," Deimos said hoarsely after a moment, and Ethos felt his soul cave in, too afraid to ask what he was sorry for, too scared it would be for hurting him more. 

"We should-- we should get you back to your room," Ethos responded, slightly breathless at the unpleasant thought of bringing Deimos back to his own navigator, but the fighter shook his head, brought a hand up and clenched at Ethos' own palm tightly. 

" _Your_ room," the whispered reply came, and Ethos' heart damn near exploded with happiness and shock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter, but there's big stuffs coming up next. A big thanks to everyone who commented! It's really very motivating :)<3


End file.
